Dead Men Do Tell Tales
by Etcetera Kit
Summary: After seeing an ad in the local Angel Grove paper, ten former red rangers decide to spend the night in a haunted house on Halloween... and end up in the middle of a ghost family feud! Epilogue added. Complete.
1. House On Haunted Hill

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. However, if Power Rangers did those spiffy novels like _Star Trek_ and _Star Wars_, I'd be set for life. No infringement is intended.

**Author's Note:** Welcome to the much-anticipated, albeit late, Halloween story. This takes place about two weeks after the very end of 'Roaring On the Wind.' You don't have to have read that to read this, but you might be a bit confused. For reference, the red ranger distress signal includes: Jason, Tommy, TJ, Andros, Leo, Carter, Wes, Eric, Cole and Conner. Rocky and Shane are NOT a part of it. Once more, for clarification on that, see 'Roaring On the Wind.' Also note that this will not be the 'War and Peace' length that ROTW was. Cheers! --EK (PS: Jepoliant is cheeky!)

* * *

**DEAD MEN DO TELL TALES**

By Etcetera Kit

**Chapter One: House On Haunted Hill**

TJ Johnson was trying to read the local Angel Grove newspaper while he was getting ready for work. Balancing the newspaper in one hand and shoveling cereal into his mouth with the other hand, he had not expected the words to jump out at him. And jump out they did. A large page advertisement caught his attention.

_Spend the night in the House on Haunted Hill. You and your friends could make up to one millions dollars apiece._

He froze with the spoon halfway to his mouth. The House On Haunted Hill? Wasn't that a movie that came out a while ago? He read the rest of the article and it outlined the challenge. Apparently the house was one of the more severely haunted places in Angel Grove and the ghosts got restless and violent on Halloween. The people were looking for applicants about people who wanted to stay there. He snorted. He imagined that all kinds of people would be dumb enough to fall for a publicity stunt like that. The groups could be as large as one wanted. He rolled his eyes. This was ridiculous.

But still… the idea stuck with him all day. He didn't believe in ghosts. And he could think of a group of guys who didn't believe in ghosts either—the former red rangers involved in the red ranger distress signal. The distress signal had been put into place on their mission to the moon about four years ago and, so far, it had only been used for one dire thing. Everything else it got used for tended to be for weddings and baby showers and things of that nature.

Heck, it was worth a shot, calling up all those guys and seeing if they wanted to enter the contest with him. The article had said that out of all the applicants, only one group would get chosen. There was no way that the people would choose them. All of them were way too skeptical to fall for pranks like that. He picked up his cell phone and dialed Andros' home number to activate the distress signal, hoping that all the members with families could get away for Halloween weekend if, by some crazy coincidence they were chosen.

The phone rang several times before Andros picked it up.

"Hello?" the human from KO 35 asked.

"Andros," TJ started. "I just got the craziest idea."

* * *

Andros listened to TJ's idea regarding the haunted house with some reserve. If they were chosen, it wouldn't be any big deal for him to get up there. He lived within a ten minute drive of the place TJ was talking about. It was the others, who lived across the country that he was concerned about. He couldn't picture Mr. Collins financing a trip for all of them to spend the night in a haunted house because TJ had a crazy idea. And anyways, Jen had just come out of her year-long coma and didn't need Wes to gallivant off to Angel Grove for a weekend. That and Eric and Cole were both embroiled in wedding plans and the interesting task of keeping their fiancées mollified.

Well, even if it was only the reds from the Angel Grove area there, that would still be four of them and Andros imagined that that was more than enough to fend off ghosts.

"So? What do you think?" TJ asked.

Andros slowly let out a breath, thinking of Ashley's reaction to this. His children were still really little—two and a half and a year. She wanted him home. But, he could brave her reaction for one potential night away from home with the guys. "I'm game," he said slowly. "Although I'm not sure about the others."

"Which others?"

"The ones who don't live in or around Angel Grove. Wes, Eric, Cole…"

"… Leo, Jason, Carter…" TJ picked up. "But do you think that Tommy and Conner would be interested?"

"I'm sure Conner would be. Tommy might come along too just for grins." He paused and sighed. "I guess I can just continue the phone circle and we can find out."

"Sounds good," TJ said. "I'm sure that by the time Tommy gets back to me, we'd have a definite idea of who's in and whatnot. Besides, we're not even guaranteed to be the ones chosen to sleep at the house."

"True," Andros said slowly. "Well, I'll give Leo a call and see if he's interested. Give me a call back when you get the application in, all right?"

"Will do," TJ replied. "I'll talk to you later, Andros."

"All right. Bye."

"Bye."

Andros hung up the phone and went to get his cell phone to call Leo. He would brave Ashley's reaction to all of this later.

* * *

By the time the phone circle got around to Eric Myers, he was already in a bad mood. Whatever gave him the brilliant idea to propose to Taylor, he didn't know, but he wanted to find the little voice that had told him to do that and drown it in napalm. He had no idea that weddings were such a headache, especially since Taylor's parents had gotten involved. He, for all intents and purposes, didn't have a family and things had been going well in regards to the plans until her family stepped in. Now he had a strong urge to see if he could drown himself in the shower. First, her parents weren't happy because they were living together, then they weren't happy about any of the existing plans. Now, he wasn't sure what any of the plans were, he was just hiding and trying to save himself from castration by her father.

He had been lying on the couch, trying to recover from a hard day at work (complete with bruises to show for it) when his cell phone rang. The ring tone was the Indiana Jones theme and that meant that Wes was calling. Dammit, he saw enough of Wes at work where they were partners and co-commanders of the Silver Guardians. Still lying down, he picked up the cell phone.

"What?" he barked at Wes.

"You sound cheerful."

"Shut-up," he growled. Wes seemed to have been up in the clouds for the past two weeks and no one could blame him—Jen had come out of her coma and was doing really well, although along with that Wes suddenly found his attitude rather depressing. Like he acted any different before? "What do you want?"

"I just got a call from Carter. Apparently there's this haunted house in Angel Grove and some publicists are advertising for people to stay the night there on Halloween."

"And this had precisely what to do with me?"

"TJ thinks we should all send in an application, the distress signal bunch."

"Forget it."

"Eric! It could be cool."

"I don't have the money to go to Angel Grove for the weekend just so I can prove a bunch of stupid supernatural freaks wrong."

"How many times have you told me that my father is Oliver Warbucks?"

"I think I called him a 'fucking Rockefeller' last time." He paused. "And your point is?"

"The point is, don't worry about getting there. There's no guarantee that our application will be chosen. Until then, don't worry about it."

Eric absolutely did not want to take money from Wes' father, but it seemed like Wes was planning on financing the whole trip like he had back with that Mesogog mess. That still meant six airplane tickets to buy.

"So are you in?" Wes asked.

"Fine."

"Good. Call Cole and pass on the message. Everyone so far wants to be a part of it. Make sure that that gets through, because TJ needs to know it when Tommy finally gets around to calling him."

"Fine."

"Bye!" The call disconnected.

He threw the cell phone back on the coffee table. He could call Cole in half an hour when he felt like he could speak civilly once more. And TJ would just have to wait until tomorrow for his answer if the others didn't get the call through fast enough. He threw an arm over his eyes, wishing that he had never met half of those damned former reds. They kept dragging him into ridiculous situations that he didn't even want to think about.

"What are you sulking about?"

He moved his arm and saw Taylor walking into the living room. He glowered at her. She half-laughed half-snorted and perched on the coffee table next to him.

"All right, what are you brooding about?" She paused. "Did my parents harass you?"

"When are they not harassing me?"

She laughed and ran a hand over his chest. She was feeling him up through his t-shirt and he knew it. Why did he let her manipulate him like that? She knew all the right things to do to get him to tell her anything or do anything. She leaned her elbows on his chest and looked up at him, her blue eyes alight with amusement.

"So what's up?" she asked.

He groaned. "TJ wants all of the former reds to put in an application with him to stay in a haunted house on Halloween."

"That's what you're sulking about?"

"Why would I want to spend the night in a supposedly haunted house with those losers?"

"I thought you said you had gotten over thinking they're all losers?"

"It comes and goes."

She laughed again and he hauled her on top of him, loving the weight of her slim body pressing down on his. "Did you have a bad day at work?" she asked in a seductive whisper. Her hands went to the hem of his t-shirt and pushed it up, over his head. He gladly relinquished it. It was getting too hot in the room anyways. Her fingers lightly brushed over his chest and stopped at a particularly nasty bruise on his side. He reached over and shoved the coffee table out of the way before rolling both of them on the floor. Working quickly, he unbuttoned her blouse and pushed it off her shoulders. Their lips met in a soft, chaste kiss before it turned into a violent and passionate kiss, tongues dueling and teeth bumping.

Just as he was contemplating the quickest way to strip both of them of their clothing, the doorbell rang and he could hear her parents' voices on the doorstep.

"Damn," she muttered, pulling her blouse back on and getting up to answer the door. He found his own shirt and pulled it on. Maybe getting away for the weekend wasn't such a bad idea.

* * *

Carter Grayson trailed along behind his kids as they ran ahead to the next house. Mr. Collins had paid to bring his entire family to Angel Grove for the weekend. The Angel Grove Youth Center had organized daytime trick-or-treating for the little kids and he and Dana had been only too glad to have their kids participate. Cory was four and Heather was two-and-a-half. There was no need for them to wait until dark when they would both be cranky and tired. He glanced behind him. Dana and Ashley were behind him talking and dragging along Ashley's kids, who were younger than his.

He had just got to the front walk of the house Cory and Heather were at when they came barreling down the same walk. "Daddy! Look!" Heather cried, brandishing the candy that she had just gotten.

"That's great, Heather," he replied. "Let's wait for the others."

Cory made a face. He had a disdain for the younger kids when it came to waiting. Andros was just strolling along behind all of them, looking rather amused. Carter also figured that they might run into some of the others before the trick-or-treating was over. Leo and Kendrix and their daughter, Merry, were supposed to be walking around even though Merry was only three months old. He also figured that they would run into Mary Anne and Susie. (Billy Cranston's daughters—Mary Anne was chaperoning Susie since Kim, their stepmother, was six months pregnant and Billy didn't really want to walk around with them.)

"Mr. Carter!"

Carter didn't have time to think before he was attacked by a nine-year-old girl in a fairy costume. "Hi, Susie," he said, smiling as Mary Anne came down the sidewalk after her sister. "Mary Anne," he added.

Mary Anne was an amused smile on her face. "So is it true that you and the rest of those guys are going to spend the night in that haunted house?"

"Sure is," he replied.

"That is so cool!" Mary Anne stated. "At least there'll be a lot of you."

"True."

Susie had long since released him and was tugging on Mary Anne's hand. "Come on!" she whined. "Let's go!"

"See you, later," he said as the girls headed the opposite direction down the street. The others caught up with them.

"Can we go to the next house now?" Cory asked, looking impatient.

"Sure." Cory and Heather ran along to the next house.

It was warmer here than it was in Mariner Bay. The air was crisp and cool—the perfect temperature for walking around trick-or-treating. A slight breeze blew and the afternoon sky was blue—not a cloud in sight. The street was filled with the soft murmur of voices and the joyful shrieking of kids in costumes running from house to house. What other time of the year was quite like this? Carter had to admit, he had always liked Halloween, even as a kid. This year he had to miss the Halloween party that the fire station gave, but it was a small matter. Most of the guys there had been impressed to hear what he was doing on Halloween instead—spending the night in a severely haunted house with some old friends.

He watched his own kids waiting for Brian and Kaye—Ashley and Andros' kids—at the end of the walk. Brian and Heather were the same age, but Heather was pretty advanced development-wise for her age, making Brian seem younger. Kaye was a year old and following along the older kids on unsteady legs. Andros had taken to following close behind her and catching her before she fell. And Kaye probably had the best costume too—she was a ladybug as opposed to the vampire (Cory), the Ninja Turtle (Brian) and the Disney princess (Heather).

"Hey guys!"

Leo and Kendrix were across the street with Merry. He waved as they crossed the street and joined the small group.

"We should hit TJ's house," Leo said with a malicious grin.

"Why?" Dana asked.

"To make sure he's giving out our candy like he's supposed to," Andros muttered.

They slowly made their way down the street and steered the kids in the direction of TJ's house. It was slow work, but soon enough TJ's house came into view. And Carter saw why it was a must-stop. Somehow, TJ had recruited Eric to hand out all the candy and the man looked highly disgruntled. (Eric and his fiancée, Taylor, were staying with TJ.)

"Hi, Uncle Eric!" Cory cried, running up the walk. "Trick or treat!"

Eric raised an eyebrow at the boy and dropped some candy in his bucket. "Don't spend it all in one place, kid," he muttered.

"Thank you!" Cory replied. The other kids came up to get candy and Eric, while giving them the candy, looked like he wanted to throw all the candy in the bush by the porch and go hide somewhere.

"How did you get stuck handing out candy?" Kendrix asked Eric.

Eric looked over his shoulder and glared in the direction of the house, not answering the question. Andros picked up Kaye before she could use Eric's knee as a grip while she hauled herself back to her feet. The Quantum Ranger was looking around disdainfully at all the kids that were now swarming all over the porch. Carter smiled in spite of himself. Eric would learn quickly enough when he got kids of his own.

Wes came out of the house with two beers and handed Eric one. Eric grabbed the beer and shoved the bowl of candy at Wes.

"You hand out the candy," he growled. "Since you're in such a good mood."

Wes took the bowl good-naturedly. Carter and Dana exchanged glances, stifling laughter. Everyone knew why Wes was in a good mood. In fact, the entire group was going out to dinner that night before the guys went to the haunted house and Jen was going to be there. Even though she was still weak and in the early stages of recovery, she had insisted on coming along to be there firsthand when they got out of the haunted house.

"We'd better get the kids back to the house," Ashley told everyone. Carter and Dana and their kids were staying with Andros and Ashley, due to the fact that most of their kids got along pretty well.

Just as they were saying their goodbyes, Taylor came out on the front porch. "Jen's looking for you," she said to Wes. He tried to hand the candy bowl back to Eric.

"Oh hell no," Eric muttered. "TJ!" he yelled through the screen door. "Get out here and hand out _your_ candy!" Taylor smacked Eric's upper arm. He winced.

"Don't swear in front of the kids," she reprimanded him. Eric glared at her.

Luckily enough for all of them, TJ came out and rescued the candy bowl as Wes disappeared into the house. They rounded up all the kids (Andros still preventing Kaye from trying to climb all over Eric) and headed down the street towards Andros and Ashley's house. Tonight would certainly be an interesting night.

* * *

Conner McKnight shouldered his backpack and picked his sleeping bag and pillow out of the back of Doctor O's Jeep. He and Doctor O had driven up from Reefside earlier that afternoon and had arrived at TJ's house just as the afternoon trick-or-treating for the little kids was ending. The group had gone out to dinner (spouses and children included) before heading over to the 'House On Haunted Hill' as the local haunted house had been dubbed for the occasion. The place looked like a stereotypical haunted house—an old Victorian place with two main stories, a basement and attic along with the typical turrets and adornments of a Victorian house. The yard was overgrown and the place looked dusty with neglect. He wondered if someone had purposely let that happen for the event.

He watched as everyone else piled out of TJ and Andros' cars. Everyone looked up at house skeptically. A short man with a mustache approached them as they got out of their cars and looked around.

"Glad you're here, boys!" he said jovially, a little too jovially. "You all know the rules. You have to stay in the house—and I mean in the house. You can't come on the porch or the roof or anything like that. If you leave before that, no money." He paused, laughing a nervous little laugh. "Someone will be outside watching and taking note of anyone who leaves."

TJ nodded as the little man handed him the keys.

"Have a good night, boys! Until sunrise!"

Conner heard Eric snort as the man hurried off to his own car. "Glad he's gone," the Quantum Ranger muttered.

"I read somewhere that the ghosts here tried to kill the last occupants," Cole said in a nonchalant tone as TJ unlocked the front door and they all clustered on the porch. The swing and rocking chair swayed eerily in the late fall breeze.

"Very comforting," Wes said sarcastically.

"Hell, forget that," Eric added. "I'm in this for the money. And if I have to deal with a couple of spooks to get it, then I'm game."

"I'm glad you're so confident," Andros replied.

TJ succeeded in unlocking the door and everyone followed him into the front entry hall of the house. A large chandelier was hanging over them and the place had cobwebs everywhere. Most of the furniture in the parlor beyond was covered in sheets. Jason groped around on a wall and found a light switch. Dim, dusty electric lights came on, illuminating the place.

"Hope the water and plumbing works," Leo said slowly.

Conner moved forward with everyone else, hefting the cooler with one arm and balancing the rest of his stuff with the other. He and Doctor O had thought it would be a good idea to bring a cooler of drinks and food for the night.

A loud bang caused all of them to jump. The front door had slammed shut. Carter, who was closest, tried the doorknob.

"It's locked." 

_To Be Continued..._


	2. Ghostbusters Gone Wrong

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. However, if Power Rangers did those spiffy novels like _Star Trek_ and _Star Wars_, I'd be set for life. No infringement is intended.

**DEAD MEN DO TELL TALES**

By Etcetera Kit

**Chapter Two: Ghostbusters Gone Wrong**

"I knew we shouldn't have trusted that little weasel," Eric muttered. "He's gone and locked our sorry asses in here."

TJ went forward to the door with the keys, trying to entrance key. He rattled it in the lock, but to no avail. The doorknob—and the lock within—would not budge. Cole Evans swallowed the lump of fear that had formed at the back of his throat. Eric was probably right—the publicist was going to make it look like they had been locked in by a ghost.

"Watch out for trip wires," Eric continued his muttering. Cole felt slightly better. It was hard to be afraid of a ghost if Eric was standing right near you, muttering about trip wires and sleazy publicists.

Andros sighed. "Well, we might as well make the best of it," he said.

The group moved forward. The switch Jason had flipped seemed to light up the entire house, as all the lights in each room they moved through were on. Not that Cole minded that any—it made him feel better to know that they weren't going to stumble into a pitch black room and run into something… unusual.

"Anyone think to bring a flashlight?" Carter asked.

"I did," several voices said at once. That caused some shuffling as people pulled flashlights out of their bags and backpacks, including Carter. The flashlight bit was amusing because they ranged from a little kid cow flashlight that mooed (Andros and it probably belonged to one of his children) to a huge industrial flashlight that nothing could destroy (Tommy).

"We should set up a base camp," Tommy said, taking charge. When all ten of them got together, for whatever reason, then they defaulted to Tommy as the leader, mostly because he had been their leader for the mission to the moon where nine out of the ten of them initially met. (Of course, he, Wes and Eric had known each other previously.)

"Which room?" Andros asked.

"Right here," Jason suggested.

"Are you crazy?" Conner exclaimed. "They could take out all of us with that chandelier!"

Jason looked up and, for the first time, saw the chandelier. Cole had to agree with Conner. There were a plethora of horror movies where chandeliers were the first thing to fall and almost kill someone.

"Good point," Jason replied.

"I suppose we can't stay in the kitchen now," Eric said sarcastically. "The cupboard doors might fly off and bludgeon us to death."

"The parlor," Tommy said loudly to prevent any forthcoming argument. The group moved off the front hall and into the parlor. The only thing in this room was a few large pieces of furniture covered with sheets.

"Let's hope the furniture doesn't decide to come alive and eat us," Eric said as they entered the parlor with his usual sarcastic tone.

"Eric!" Wes yelled, punching his shoulder. Eric glared at him, but kept his mouth shut. Cole remembered seeing a Muppets episode where the furniture came alive and tried to eat various citizens. Of course, since that had been the Muppets and everything that happened around them was harmless and amusing. He didn't imagine that if the furniture really came alive, it would be as harmless as the Muppets.

They spread out around the parlor, moving the furniture against the wall, giving all of them room to sleep comfortably and not packed in like sardines. Cole watched absently as the sleeping bags were placed in a pile and Conner pulled out a deck of cards. Drinks were pulled from the cooler along with some snacks. Cole didn't know how anyone could be hungry after all the dinner they had, but it seemed to give them something to do.

After a few moments, Eric stood up, his flashlight in hand. "Well, if we're going to stay here the night, I want to find out what's in this house. Anyone want to come?"

Everyone hesitated, looking at one another. Finally, Conner volunteered. Eric glanced his way and Cole inwardly groaned. He didn't want to go exploring the house, but he knew that Eric would find a way of getting him to go. He saved Eric the trouble and stood up, digging through his duffel bag for his flashlight.

Heart beating an irregular rhythm, he followed Eric and Conner out of the parlor.

* * *

"Think they'll find anything?" Carter asked, an amused grin on his face as the trio left the parlor for the vast reaches of the house. 

TJ snorted, returning the grin. "No."

"Eric just needs something to do," Wes added. "He can't stand sitting around in situations like this for very long." He paused. "Think there actually are ghosts?"

"I know Conner thinks so," Tommy replied. "And Cole looked pretty certain about it from the look on his face."

"Great," Carter laughed. "Eric's got the two most superstitious guys here with him."

"He'll be back," Wes yawned. "And those two will probably be missing something vital."

Carter just shook his head as Jason dealt out the cards to play poker. None of them had anything to bet, but playing the game helped to take their minds off things. The power of suggestion was extremely potent and, if someone started hearing things, it would probably be enough to put all of them on guard. And then no one would feel comfortable. To his mind, they were just spending the night in an old house. Older houses creaked and groaned like newer houses didn't. Noises like that could often be attributed to ghosts because people had overactive imaginations. Plus this house was old and falling apart—that probably accounted for the 'death threats' that people had received.

Like Eric, he imagined that most of them were there for the money on some level. If a rich guy was willing to throw away that kind of money on a publicity stunt, then he wasn't going to pass it up. Not all of them were comfortably off for life like Wes. Most of them had blue-collar jobs and worried about their bills every month. He also, inwardly, seconded Eric's idea that there would be trip wires and tricks set up in the house. It would probably be juvenile stunts, but would be enough to scare someone faint of heart.

"Do you hear that?"

Carter was drawn from his reverie at the sound of Wes' voice. He was frowning and appeared to be listening intently to something. Everyone in the room fell silent and still. There was a ghostly howling going on somewhere far off.

"It's the wind," Jason scoffed.

"Conner and Cole managed to get you worked up?" Carter asked.

Wes frowned. "That didn't sound like any wind I've ever heard."

"You don't live in an old house," Tommy told him. "The wind howls like that through old houses."

"No, I don't live in an old house, but I do live in a big house." He paused. "And if it's really windy outside, the wind makes weird noises through the place. But that didn't sound like the wind."

"Wes, don't worry about it," TJ reassured him, looking at his cards. "It's nothing."

"Or its Eric trying to scare all of us," Andros added.

Wes visibly relaxed at that prospect. "You're probably right."

"I can't see really see Eric doing that," Leo said slowly. "I mean he can be really indifferent and sarcastic, but would he ever purposely scare someone?" He shook his head. "I can't see him playing practical jokes, because he hates having them played on him."

"That's true," Wes replied. "So what is it?"

"The wind," Tommy repeated firmly.

Wes still looked unsure. Carter sighed and tried to concentrate on his cards. Sure, he was a little uneasy about being here, but he wasn't going to let something like the wind howling through the attic scare him. Perhaps the publicists had made a huge mistake in picking them to stay here the night. They didn't, or he hoped they didn't, scare easily.

"So what's the story about this house?" he asked TJ, just to take the focus off of the wind that sounded like ghostly howling.

"Apparently a bunch of people were murdered here back in the twenties. The family that lived in the house was respectable Victorians, but they had to cover up some less-than-respectable relatives who were into bootlegging and gangs." TJ paused. "If I recall correctly, the father in the family tried to put a stop to the unscrupulous activities going on in his house. The circumstances surrounding his death are questionable, but it is generally accepted that he was murdered. All the members of the gang were haunted by him and went insane eventually."

"Do they all haunt this place?" Jason asked.

"Ghosts of some of the gang members have been seen, but the ones people see the most are the father and his wife."

"What do these ghosts have against the living?" Leo questioned absently.

TJ shrugged. "They have their own war going on and anyone who gets in the way is nothing more than collateral damage."

Tommy let out a low whistle. "Interesting."

"One of the most severely haunted places in Angel Grove, according to all those paranormal specialists," TJ continued. "I saw a special about it right before the guys called me to say that we had been chosen."

"So do these ghosts like turn out the lights and throw things?" Jason asked with a laugh. "Kind of like those Halloween cartoons the kids were watching today?"

"Ghostly gunfights have been seen." TJ shrugged again. "They didn't really go into what happened to the people who bought the place after the owners died."

"Weird," Tommy said in his 'spooky' voice and they all laughed.

"Well," Carter said in light of the joviality. "I figure that if a ghost has my name on it, then there's not much I can do about it."

And he had spoken all too soon. As soon as the words left his mouth, the lights in the room went out, plunging them into pitch blackness. He felt his heart start to beat wildly. A male scream filled his ears.

* * *

Before the lights went out, Eric, Conner and Cole had been walking along the upstairs corridor. Conner had to admit that this place would be pretty nice if someone took the time to renovate it and fix it up. A little paint and a few drapes and the place would be good as new. Not that he was an interior designer. When Eric had asked if anyone wanted to check out the house with him, he had decided he might as well. His outburst about the chandelier earlier could be attributed to nerves. The thing with the chandelier only happened in really cheesy horror movies. He followed Eric up the stairs. 

The upstairs hallway held side tables with vases of rotted flowers. Conner would have been reminded of a hotel if the place didn't look so abandoned. With Eric leading the way, they had crept up the stairs and down the hallway. At the first door, Eric had turned the doorknob and pushed the door open.

"What is it?" Conner asked. Cole had hung back behind them, not looking entirely happy with the situation.

"Master bedroom," Eric replied. "Check out the canopy."

The two of them poked their flashlights in the room and were struck by a huge four poster bed with a molding canopy and curtains. "Cool," Conner replied. As he waved his flashlight around, he caught a glint of metal off of Eric's left hand. He pointed his flashlight at the offending spot.

"What the hell are you doing?" Eric asked him.

"Oh," Conner replied. "That's your wedding ring."

Eric snorted. "Not married yet."

"Then why are you wearing it?"

"Taylor makes me."

"Ah." Conner had heard something of the relationship between Eric and Taylor. From what he had gleaned from the others, Taylor ran Eric's life, but Eric was not ever going to admit to that. Conner was briefly reminded of the Blue Collar Comedy Tour where one of the comedians had said that women were training men. He could believe it.

"Guys!" Cole spoke up suddenly, pointing into the room.

Conner and Eric looked up in unison. Their flashlights were pointed at the ground in front of their feet, but they could make it out clearly. There were two ghostly apparitions on the bed—pearly, transparent. Conner's heart began to beat wildly in his chest. The male ghost started to undress the female ghost and the ghost-clothing was dropped to the floor. And as much as he wanted to run away, he was frozen to the spot in both horror and fascination.

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Conner hissed, still frozen.

"Two ghosts about to fuck?" Eric replied. "Yup." He paused. "Let's get out of here."

"Good call."

Eric grabbed his shoulder and shoved him out of the doorway, slamming the door shut as they went. Conner went stumbling away from the door and right into Cole. The Wild Force Ranger steadied him. Breathing hard and knowing that his eyes were wide, he glanced between Cole and Eric. Cole looked petrified, while Eric looked thoughtful.

"What was that?" Conner gasped.

"A ghost," Cole said in a matter-of-fact voice. Just underneath that tone was another that indicated extreme panic.

"Could have been a projection above the doorway," Eric said.

Cole gave Eric and unbelieving look. "I suppose you want to go back in there and find out?" Eric gave him a bored look and pushed open the door. Conner peered in and the room was as it had been when he and Eric had initially been looking in there.

"Wha-?" he trailed off.

"Nothing," Eric said triumphantly.

Cole, for once in his life, looked mad. "You were scared when you thought it was a ghost!" he nearly yelled.

"At first," Eric replied reasonably. "But then rationality takes over." He tapped his temple with his index finger as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world. Cole looked livid beyond words, but swallowed anything he was about to say. Conner was inclined to agree with Eric—the thing could have been anything, but the fact that it didn't stick around probably lent to the evidence that it wasn't a ghost.

"Dude, you think all these rooms are bedrooms?" Conner asked, both of them studiously ignoring Cole who seemed just happy to be ignored.

"We can but find out," Eric replied.

They went down to the next door on the hallway and Eric opened it. They shone their flashlights in and it was much the same as the first room, only the bed was not anywhere near as big and as ornate.

"I should see about getting me and Taylor one of those huge canopy beds," Eric commented absently as they moved to the next door.

"Yeah," Conner replied.

Suddenly, the lights in the house went out and they were plunged into momentary pitch blackness. Conner instinctively threw his arms out and hit Eric. Eric grabbed his forearm to keep him steady as the pale beams of their flashlights came back into focus. Conner shone his flashlight behind him.

"Where's Cole?"

Eric frowned, his features distorted by the pale light. "I don't know." He paused. "Someone downstairs must have hit the master switch. The lights will come back on in a second and we can find Cole. He probably just slipped into one of the bedrooms because he's sulking."

Conner nodded. The next thing he heard caused his heart to freeze. They heard a male scream and from the expression on Eric's face, they were thinking the same thing. It was Cole. The part of the hallway they were in opened up to the larger living room/ballroom downstairs. A banister ran along the balcony. Conner glanced aimlessly over there and then froze.

"What the hell-" Eric said trailing off.

Both of them looked at the high ceiling of the living room. The others wouldn't be able to see this if they were still in the parlor—a small room off the front hall. At first glance, it had looked like white, swirling clouds. A second look brought it more into focus. It was people, flying around in a circle up there. They flew seamless in the formation, their bodies pearly and transparent. All of them were clad in Victorian clothing.

Conner opened his mouth to scream, but Eric clapped a hand over his mouth. "Shhh," he hissed. "Too bad no one brought a video camera."

The ghosts appeared almost like they were making a whirlpool. Conner used the flashlight to glance at his watch. It was just after nine o'clock. Didn't weird things like this not happen until midnight? The ghosts slowly faded one by one into the walls. Conner looked over to Eric. The man was visibly pale. And he knew he probably didn't look any better.

"Are you scared?" he hissed.

"Scared?" Eric whispered back, incredulous. "Oh no. I've gone way beyond scared. Right now I'm somewhere between bed-wetting and a near death experience." He shook his head. "Let's try to find Cole. I'm not going to explain to his fiancée that he died at the hands of some crazy ghosts."

Conner nodded and they headed back down the hallway, following the pale beams of their flashlights.

* * *

Cole had no idea what had happened. One moment he had been following Eric and Conner down the hallway. As much as he might have been angry with Eric, his fear of being left alone outweighed any anger he felt, so he crept along behind them. Then the lights went out. He had reached out to grab Conner, but felt something pull him from behind back into the master bedroom that they had seen the ghost in. 

Breath coming in ragged gasps, he frantically shone his flashlight around, trying to figure out who or what had dragged him back in there. His light fell on the door and he shot forward, hand grasping the knob. But it was locked. He rattled it some, before giving that up and pounding on the door with one fist, the other fist clutched around his flashlight.

"Eric! Conner!" he yelled. "This isn't funny!"

But deep down, he knew that Conner and Eric had not stuffed him in this room. They had been in front of him and the wrong direction to shove him back in here. His heart was beating even more wildly than it had before—almost so that it was hurting his chest. He hoped that he didn't have a fear induced heart attack and die. Scared to death… would he be the first to have that honor and distinction? Alyssa… he wanted to get out of here.

He shone the flashlight around wildly some more, before slumping against the door. A lump lodged at the back of his throat and hot tears stung his eyes. He was scared—more scared than he had ever been in his entire life. This was not being scared during a fight with orgs or a ranger battle. This was just flat-out scared. It was liked being afraid during a scary movie.

"Okay," he said aloud, for his comfort of hearing something other than the deafening silence. "It's not going to do any good to panic. Eric and Conner are just out in the hallway. If I make enough noise, they'll hear me and get me out of here."

He turned back towards the door and started pounding on it, calling out Eric and Conner's names, hoping that they would hear him. He strained through his own noise to hear them out in the hallway. They would come to the door and call through to him, letting him know that help was on its way and he wasn't by himself.

"Guys!" he cried. "I'm sorry! Don't leave me in here!"

Dry sobs racked his entire body. He was petrified.

"It won't do any good to call. They can't hear you from here."

Cole looked up at the voice. It was a male voice—tenor and tremulous with a slight British accent. There was a man sitting on the edge of the bed—the same man they had seen in this very room earlier. He was dressed in the style of Victorian aristocracy. And he was pearly white and transparent.

Cole screamed. 

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thank you to my dear reviewers-- I saw a lot of familiar faces from ROTW, or was it all familiar faces? I don't know. Please excuse my sleep-deprived brain. Just keep in mind that this is supposed to be a fun fic (albeit a bit creepy) with a little bit being done for Jen/Wes and Eric/Taylor at the end. So this is like... brain candy. Just be sure to brush your brains afterwards. Oh and can someone tell me why the DT teens are not yet listed for the characters lists around here? Does someone need to e-mail the PTB? Because I'll do it. Cheers! --EK 


	3. the Friendly Ghost

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. However, if Power Rangers did those spiffy novels like _Star Trek_ and _Star Wars_, I'd be set for life. No infringement is intended.

**DEAD MEN DO TELL TALES**

By Etcetera Kit

**Chapter Three: the Friendly Ghost**

"What happened?"

"I don't know."

"Who's there?"

"Who's _there_?"

"Andros?"

"Jason?"

"Sit down somewhere."

"Not there! I'm there!"

The bright light of a flashlight suddenly came on, having the same effect on their eyeballs as that of a supernova. Andros blinked a couple of times and the room came back into focus. Tommy had turned on his super-strength industrial flashlight and, unlike the pale beams of everyone else's flashlights, his had the sharp, white light of a fluorescent light bulb. Tommy was slowly aiming the flashlight around and the roll call was the same as it had been before the light initially went off. Jason, Tommy, Leo, Wes, Carter and TJ were all either sitting or standing around the parlor.

Andros groped around on the floor beside him and found his—Brian's—cow flashlight. Squeezing the handle, the flashlight came on and it mooed. The moo sounded rather mournful and depressed. He glanced around.

"Okay," Jason said in an unsteady voice. "Why did the lights go out?"

"Maybe Eric and all them went to basement and turned off the master switch?" Andros suggested.

"Did anyone else hear that scream?" Wes asked softly.

"Yeah," Tommy replied. "I think it came from upstairs."

"Did Eric, Conner and Cole go upstairs or down?" Carter asked.

Andros shook his head, even though no one was likely to see it. "I don't know."

"Probably went upstairs," TJ said, his voice shaking. "There's more interesting things upstairs and then in the attic." He paused. "They wouldn't be interested in anything that might be down in the basement."

By now, the pale moonlight was coming through the dusty drapes in the parlor. In spite of himself, Andros felt his breathing catch and his heart beat a faster staccato rhythm. This was not good. Whatever the case, it was unlikely that Eric and his crew had managed to turn out the lights. It was even more improbable because Cole was with them and Cole possibly hated practical jokes more than Eric.

"Okay," Tommy said in a deceptively steady voice. "Let's split into two groups. One group will get the lights back on and the other will look for Eric, Conner and Cole." He paused and took in a shaky breath. "Leo, Carter and TJ work on the lights. Jason, Wes and Andros come with me to find the others."

"Meet back here in one hour whether or not you've had success," Jason added to everyone in the parlor.

With that, they picked up their flashlights and went their separate ways.

* * *

"Did he go back in one of the bedrooms?" Conner asked as he and Eric crept back down the hallway, both of them visibly shaking. They were standing in front of the master bedroom door. Eric shrugged and tried the doorknob. It didn't move.

"What the hell?" Eric muttered. "This was open!" He glanced at Conner. "This was open earlier and I'm not going crazy."

"It was open," he agreed.

Eric banged on the door. "Dammit, Cole!" he yelled. "Open the door! After what we just saw, we believe you!"

"We're out here!" Conner added, not knowing what else to say. Eric had just about covered it with what he had been yelling.

Rattling the doorknob once more, Eric gave up with frustrated growl. "I don't know," he said shaking his head. "If Cole were in there, he would have opened the door already."

Conner nodded. "Maybe he went around us and up to the attic."

"Great."

They started towards the other end of the upstairs hallway that held the stairs to the attic, but froze at the sound of unearthly high-pitched laughter. In unison, they turned around and saw a woman, dressed in white standing at the top of the main staircase. She was one of the two ghosts they had initially seen in the master bedroom. Her right hand rested on the banister and her left hand was pillowed between her breasts. Her features, which normally would have been considered pretty, were twisted in an expression of evil joy. Her head was thrown back and blood—that looked real unlike the rest of her—gushed from a slit across her throat.

"Holy hell," Eric choked.

Conner felt Eric grab his arm and they were running in the opposite direction down the hallway. Soon enough, they came upon the narrow staircase that led to the attic and he would have missed it had Eric not shoved him into it and then dashed into it himself.

Crouching on the attic stairs, Conner tried to catch his breath as Eric leaned his head against the wall. "Never again will I say I don't believe in ghosts," Eric murmured.

Conner forced a small laugh before looking up the steep, narrow stairs. "Should we go up into the attic?"

Eric shook his head. "Ghosts rise. There're probably more of them up there than on the second floor." He paused. "I don't know about you, but I'm tired to running into them."

They both snapped to attention at the sound of heavy pounding coming from the attic and seemingly right towards them. "Not again," Conner groaned.

A man appeared at the top of the stairs. He was a pearly and transparent as the rest of the ghosts they had seen. He was dressed in a ragged stripped jail outfit with heavy manacles around his ankles and wrists. "Damn him!" the man screamed, rattling the chains. "He let his own son rot away in prison!" He suddenly caught sight of them. "Where is he? Where is my father? I will make him pay for betraying his own family!"

Conner looked at Eric and in a moment they were running off the attic steps, back into the upstairs hallway. He ran into Eric as he froze because the crazed woman was still standing at the top of the stairs. The two of them were stuck, frozen in the middle of the hallway between two ghosts. The man from the attic was drifting down the hallway, chains banging.

"Mother!" he screamed. "Where is my father?"

The woman just laughed, the blood now dripping right through her body and onto the floor below. The man floated around them and gripped her by the shoulders, shaking her.

"Where is he?"

"Ask them!" The voice was high and creaky. Conner was reminded strongly of exorcism movies where possessed people talked in strange voices.

The man turned around and, as if for the first time, fully registered the pair of them standing frozen in the middle of the hallway. He started to advance on them. As if the thought struck them as one, they turned and fled back for the attic.

* * *

Tommy Oliver's heart pounded uncomfortably in his chest and his hands were cold and slick with sweat, so much so that he had to keep on adjusting his grip on his flashlight. Wes was beside him, the man's flashlight beam shaking with his hands as they slowly made their way up the main staircase, hoping that Eric, Conner and Cole were up here. Jason and Andros were directly behind them and he knew that because Jason kept stepping on his heels. Those of them who had expected to spend a peaceful night in an old house were sorely mistaken. And he would be pissed if this turned out to be a practical joke.

He shone his flashlight around the hallway as he stepped on the top step. Wes froze, his flashlight pointed at the ground. "What is that?" he whispered, his voice shaking.

Jason stepped forward and shone his own light on it. "Some kind of stain," he said softly. "Almost looks like…"

"Blood," Andros finished for him.

Tommy swallowed as Wes stepped around the stain. He shone his flashlight down the hallway. As far as he could tell, it looked deserted. "Let's just try to find them," he said in a quivery voice. "Guys!" he called softly. "Conner? Eric? Cole?"

The only answer was the continued silence of the upstairs hallway. Tommy went to the first door they came upon and tried the doorknob, not even caring that Wes had a grip on his shirt sleeve and was probably not going to let go until they were far away from this house. The door was locked.

"They're not in a room that's locked," Jason said. "They're not stupid enough to lock themselves in somewhere either."

Tommy went to the second door. It swung open. Taking a deep breath, he shone his flashlight in and looked around. Nothing. There was just dusty furniture and pale moonlight coming through the window. He turned around to face Jason and Andros. "Nothing," he replied.

"Tommy!" Wes suddenly yelled, shoving him out of the way. The act in and of itself caused both of them to lose their balance and end up on the floor. Tommy looked over his shoulder and suddenly saw what Wes' problem had been. A chair had been levitating several feet off the ground and almost hit him.

A man materialized behind the wreckage of the chair. He was clad in what Tommy would have imagined was typical gangster wear from the 20s and 30s. He sucked in a shaky breath as the man delicately dusted off his lapels. He was also transparent and pearly white. Adjusting the flower in his lapel, he looked up at them mildly.

"Oh, hello!" he said pleasantly. "You must be Father's friends. He said he was giving a dinner party this weekend." He paused, glancing at Tommy and Wes who were in a heap on the floor. "I'd imagine dinner is about to be served. You might want to find more suitable clothing."

He delicately stepped over Wes, who was sprawled in the doorway, and out into the hallway. It was then that all of them realized that this man had a bullet-hole in the back of his head. The gory, red mess made Tommy's stomach churn since it seemed to be the only non-transparent part of him. The ghost descended the stairs and disappeared out of sight.

"Holy shit," Jason muttered.

Tommy slowly hauled himself to his feet, before grabbing Wes' arm and dragging him out of the shocked frozen state he was in.

"So it's you?"

His breathing stopped for a moment at the sound of the malignant voice. Wes moved closer to him as he stepped closer to Jason and Andros. None of them cared about 'personal bubbles' or social constructs. They were petrified. The ghost before them was a little girl—nothing more than about twelve. She was wearing a white dress, but the side of her head was misshapen and a bloody mess from a bullet wound.

"You're the ones who are going to take in Charles and Johnny! But I won't let you! You work for that no-good Thomas!"

The little girl bared her small teeth and flew upward. Without a second thought, Tommy leapt forward pulling Wes with him and barreled down the stairs, Jason and Andros close on his heels.

* * *

"It's all right. I won't hurt you." The man paused, a smile on his ghostly face. "That scream of yours certainly penetrated this room. I'll warrant your friends heard that."

Cole tried to control his shaking body. His entire body had broken out in a cold sweat and he was trying to keep from screaming again. The man looked perfectly comfortable sitting on the bed, talking to him.

"I'm Lord Thomas Westmoor," the ghost began. "I wanted my children to go back to England where they could inherit my title, but, sadly, the two eldest rebelled." The ghost gave him an appraising look. "And who are you?"

"Cole," he choked.

"Cole…" Lord Westmoor said in a musing tone. "What a strange name!" He shrugged. "I suppose it is one of those new-fangled things." He shook his head. "You and your friends should not be here. It is too dangerous." His expression turned sad. "Charles and Jonathan are restless tonight. My wife is insane. I don't know where Thomas is."

Cole sucked in a deep breath, not wanting to hyperventilate. "Who are they?" he asked in a strangled voice. Perhaps if he talked to this ghost like it was a normal human being.

"My sons. Charles and Jonathan joined one of the underground gangs as soon as they finished school. Thomas, my youngest, was going to be my heir since he was the only one who turned out decently." Lord Westmoor shrugged. "My daughter, younger than the boys, didn't like Thomas and warned Charles and Jonathan that he was bringing the police for them. Charles put a bullet in Thomas' back."

He nodded. This was incredible.

The ghost inclined his head towards him. "Perhaps you can help me. This war can be ended effectively if all of their bodies are put to rest. Charles buried Thomas in the cellar and then Charles was arrested and died in jail. That was not before my wife went insane and shot Jonathan and Veronica, before slitting her own throat."

Cole swallowed. "How did you die?"

The ghost cracked a small smile. "I was poisoned."

Cole decided not to press him for details on that, because he didn't want an accurate count of how many ghosts were running around this place. He was already half-sick over the notion of what had happened to these people.

"Look sir," Lord Westmoor continued. "Thomas and I can protect you and your friends, if you agree to help us."

Already petrified for himself and his friends, Cole nodded.

"There's a good lad. This war has been going on for far too long. Thomas needs to be put to rest in a proper place. Charles is in an unmarked grave at the old prison. He is the one that harasses all the others."

Cole shook his head. "That seems too simple." He voice was dry and croaked. His mouth was unbelievably parched.

"That is but one part of it. Charles had an illegitimate daughter. Since the others were killed before they could have heirs, this estate and the money tied with it belong to that woman and to any of her descendents. If that is settled, this will be put to rest."

"Are you sure?"

"From what I have gleaned from Charles' incoherent raving, I can be fairly certain that that is what he ultimately wants."

"How can I prove any of this?"

"I am about to tell you lad." The ghost stood up. "Thomas!" he called. "Thomas!"

The smiling ghost of a young man entered through a wall. He nodded to Cole before approaching his father. "Yes, Father?"

"This lad is going to help us," Lord Westmoor said.

* * *

TJ led the way as he, Carter and Leo made their way slowly to the kitchen of the house. Carter swallowed the nervous lump of fear in his throat. They had first gone to the hallway where Jason turned on the lights initially. That had produced no results. The only option was to go down to the basement and find the master switch. Not entirely sure how to get to the basement, they had decided that the kitchen would be the best place to start.

The kitchen had the feel of a room that had last been renovated in the 50s. The appliances were silent and in avocado green, or at least that was the color that Carter assumed them to be from the inadequate light of their flashlights.

"Very retro," TJ commented as they filed into the kitchen.

"Looks like something from the fifties," Carter added.

"Look!" Leo said, pointing his flashlight beam at a door.

"It's either the pantry or the door to the basement," TJ replied.

Leo pushed past them and went to the door. He gripped the door and turned the knob as TJ shone his flashlight on the place for light. Suddenly, Leo was screaming and his flashlight was rolling around on the floor.

"What?" Carter asked. "What's in there?"

TJ was frozen to the spot, pointing. Carter looked between Leo, who was on the verge of hysterics, and TJ, who was frozen to the spot from shock. He aimed his own flashlight at the open door and saw what had frightened them. The door was definitely that to a pantry—old cans of food and faded boxes were on the shelves, but that wasn't all. A skeleton was hanging from the light fixture, as if someone had hung it up there. Carter was pretty sure that it wasn't some prank either, because the thing looked and smelled rotted. He was reminded of charred corpses he had seen as a firefighter.

Bile rose in his throat, but he swallowed it. It was likely that someone had broken into the house and put the body there. And the publicists had not bothered to have the place cleaned before they came, so no one had any reason to look for it.

"I wonder who it was," Carter said softly.

"Shut the door," Leo said from somewhere on the floor. Carter reached forward and swung the door to the pantry shut once more. It occurred to him that TJ and Leo had probably never seen a corpse that was nothing but bones. If they had seen anything gruesome during the Countdown, then it would have been people dead from head injuries or falling objects, looking like they were sleeping and not dead. He almost forgot that not everyone confronted death on an everyday basis.

"That is just creepy," TJ said hoarsely.

"Probably some missing person the police never found," Carter replied trying to make his voice sound rational. "We can tell the police about it in the morning."

"If we live that long." Leo sounded mournful and frightened.

"Let's just look for basement," Carter said.

"If that was in the pantry, then I don't want to think about what is in the basement," Leo muttered, bending to pick up his flashlight.

"You want lights or not!"

"Yes," TJ replied loudly. "Let's get cracking."

Carter shone his flashlight around. There was the appliances that were no longer working—refrigerator, double oven, stove, even a dusty toaster and blender as if someone had been living here but left in a hurry. Cobwebs were abundant and he fought the urge to sneeze. He suddenly came upon a narrow door in the corner.

"I think it's there," he said softly.

TJ went over to the door and pushed it open. The three of them clustered around the black as ink opening. Their flashlight beams did not penetrate far into the true absence of light down there. The most they could see was a few steps down.

"So?" TJ asked in a falsely flippant tone of voice. "Who's going first?"

"No way in hell!" Leo replied.

"Come on!" Carter said, trying to sound reasonable. "What's going to be down there that could hurt us?"

Leo gave him an incredulous look. "The lights? The screaming? I don't want to think about what kind of devil-spawned creation did that!" Carter and TJ both gave him bored looks, seeing as both of those things could have been practical jokes by Eric and his bunch. "Fine!" Leo said, his voice both snappish and groaning. "I'll go first."

The Galaxy Ranger took a tentative step down onto the first step. Carter stepped down next, staying right behind him. TJ followed suit.

"See anything?" Carter asked Leo.

"No. I don't think there're any windows down here. Nothing. Not even moonlight."

Carter was about to reply, but Leo's foot caught on a step and he went tumbling down into the darkness. Try as he might, his flashlight didn't reach the bottom of the stairs and soon they heard the sickening thud of Leo hitting the ground. 

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thanks for the reviews guys! I'm chugging along with this fic-- spread the word! I'm going global! But at any rate, I also did a good deed and e-mailed some site PTB about getting the new DT characters added. We shall see if they listen to me... But once more, thanks for reading and I hope you're enjoying it! --EK


	4. Hall of the Mountain King

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. However, if Power Rangers did those spiffy novels like _Star Trek_ and _Star Wars_, I'd be set for life. No infringement is intended.

**DEAD MEN DO TELL TALES**

By Etcetera Kit

**Chapter Four: Hall of the Mountain King**

Eric and Conner went up the attic stairs and burst into the attic. Eric looked over his shoulder to make sure that that ghost hadn't followed them up here. Nothing. He turned back to the attic and took a good look around. Nothing except for boxes and old trunks along with a lot of dust and cobwebs. He sighed. This was getting ridiculous. In all reality, what could a ghost do to hurt them other than scare them to death?

Conner collapsed into a spot against the wall. Eric eased himself onto the dusty floor beside the high school student. Spend a night in a haunted house, huh? He was going to throttle TJ, if by some odd change the Turbo Ranger showed up in the attic.

"What are we going to do?" Conner whispered.

"Find some way out of here," Eric replied firmly. "I'm sure that not all the doors and windows are boarded or locked. We give that ghost some time to simmer down and forget about us, then we get downstairs and find an open window."

"Can we look up here?"

"Do you want to figure out how to get off the roof?"

Conner fell silent. Eric figured that that would be their best bet. Finding a way out of here, away from murderous and crazy ghosts, seemed like an excellent idea. Screw the money and screw what the Angel Grove area would think of him. He had self-preservation in mind here and didn't plan on dying any time soon. Taylor… her name came floating into his consciousness and he realized that she was another reason to some out of this alive. As much as it pained him to admit it, he was looking forward to their wedding.

"What is that?"

Eric snapped out of his reverie at the sound of Conner's voice. He followed his gaze to the center of the large attic. At first, he would have said that it was fog or mist floating around in moonlight, but when it began to take on a form, he abandoned that thought. It slowly began to take shape and became… a guillotine?

Ghostly shapes began to form around it and Eric watched as a young man—a ghost like all the others—was brought forward to the transparent guillotine. Oh God… he knew what was about to happen… and someone eighteen years old didn't need to see it.

"Conner," Eric said slowly. "Close your eyes."

Noises slowly began to come in, as if from a badly tuned radio at first, but then louder and clearer. Eric glanced over and saw that Conner had squeezed his eyes shut and covered them with his hands. At least the kid had listened. He reached over and covered Conner's ears with his hands. There were some things that he did not believe someone so young needed to see and Conner had seen enough gruesome ghosts for one night.

"Still not going to tell us where the moonshine is?" a man asked. He looked like the prison ghost that they had seen earlier, but in a better time of his life.

Two others that Eric did not recognize brought the young man forward and wrestled him into place on the guillotine. The young man did not respond to the question, only giving his captors a steady glare.

"Do it."

The sharp blade of the guillotine came whistling down and, an instant later, the young man's head was severed from his body. Unlike all the blood they had seen earlier, this blood seemed ghostly and transparent as if they were viewing a memory and not actual ghosts. The scene faded back into the mists from whence it came. Eric removed his hands from Conner's ears, but Conner kept his eyes closed.

"It's over," Eric said.

"Hello!"

Both of them jumped at the sound of the friendly voice. It was tinged with a slight British accent. And it belonged to the ghost of a young man. Eric was so accustomed to running into ghosts at this point in time, that he almost found the friendly tone refreshing.

"I'm Thomas," the ghost said. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Cole asked after you and Father told me to make sure you stay safe." He paused. "You are Eric and Conner?"

"Yeah," Eric said quickly.

The ghost smiled. Conner had turned white. "Come with me," the ghost said. "We haven't much time to find your friends."

"Where is Cole?" Eric asked, as he stood up, dragging Conner with him who seemed like he would much rather stay where he was on the floor.

"He's with Father," Thomas said. "He's safe. Come on!"

* * *

"Leo!" Carter called down into the darkness. He had not heard anything since Leo fell down the steps with that sickening thud. "Are you all right?" A soft, feeble groan reached his ears. Carter turned and looked up at TJ. "Come on!"

As quickly as they dared, they moved down the rickety wooden steps. The stairs were steeper and went further down than Carter had originally thought. Carter was worried—had Leo gotten hurt badly enough from that tumble to be unconscious? Soon enough he and TJ were at the bottom of the stairs… and Leo was nowhere in sight.

"Where is he?" TJ hissed. "I wouldn't be moving after that fall."

Carter glanced around. "Where's his flashlight?"

"Good question."

TJ shone his flashlight around a bit, proving that the basement either was not as big as they had assumed or it just twisted and turned quite a bit. His beam of light stopped on what appeared to be a pile of wooden crates in the corner.

"There," TJ said softly.

Carter furrowed his brow and followed TJ to the crates. The Turbo Ranger moved aside the first crate and shone his flashlight behind, revealing… Leo? He was clutching his right arm at an odd angle and shaking like mad. How did Leo get back behind a bunch of crates so quickly, when he had obviously at least sprained his wrist? On closer examination, Carter decided that it looked more like Leo had broken his arm—there was a funny lump under the skin that would indicate a break. There were times it helped to be married to a doctor.

"Get out of here!" Leo hissed, his voice quavering and shaking both with fear and pain. "They want you too!"

"What?" TJ asked. "What are you talking about? Who wants us?"

"Them!" Leo nearly screamed, his voice rising in pitch and volume.

Carter and TJ swung around to see two apparitions appearing in the center of the pitch black basement. Or more, Carter assumed it was the center. His heart—which had already been pounding wildly in his chest, started beating even more irregularly. Cold sweat dripped down his back. Ghosts? But there was no such thing as ghosts… was there? Both the specters were of young men—one dressed in a suit typical of the 20s or 30s and the other clad in stereotypical prison clothing of yesteryear.

"More of them," the prison ghost snarled. "Father must be packing them in to make sure that I don't get the inheritance."

The other ghost studied them closely. "Charles, they don't look like any friends of Father's. They're dressed most peculiarly."

The jailbird rolled his eyes. "Let's just get rid of them."

"You really must get over this obsession of yours with killing people."

The two ghosts continued to argue about the convict's record in terms of killing people and whether or not he enjoyed it. If this had happened under any other circumstances, then Carter might have actually found the situation laughable. He and TJ exchanged a glance—the situation made all the more strange because it was illuminated by their flashlights.

"Charles, Jonathan," a third voice said. "That's enough."

A third ghost appeared and approached the two existing ghosts. They did not seem happy with this intrusion.

"And what would you know about it? You're a traitor. You betrayed your own brothers just so you could become Father's favorite."

The new ghost shook his head sadly. "It isn't like that. Father is going to make amends that should have been made before you poisoned him. These men are going to help him." The ghost paused. "It would not be to your advantage to kill them."

While the ghosts were arguing, Carter stepped over the crates and helped Leo get to his feet. He had had broken bones before and knew that the last thing one wanted to do in that situation was walk. TJ shoved the crates out of the way so that Leo wouldn't have to climb over them. As quietly as possible, the three of them made their way to the stairs. Carter was almost sure that they could hear his heart beating, but this seemed like their best chance. Dysfunctional ghosts… why couldn't he have met that ghost up in New England that stopped people from falling down the stairs?

"Stop them!"

They were almost to the stairs and the sound of that angry voice gave them the last jolt they needed to barrel up the stairs and burst back into the kitchen.

* * *

Cole turned the doorknob to a door that was on the first floor of the house. Lord Westmoor had been hovering behind him and telling him where to go, down a back staircase that was the most direct route here. The door swung open easily and he found himself in a small room that looked like it had been a study. The walls were stacked from floor to ceiling with books and a desk was situated in such a way that was conducive to receiving customers or clients.

"The papers for my son and I are in the desk," the ghost was saying. "The law firm I used still exists in Angel Grove although the son of my lawyer was a baby then."

He went over to the desk and opened the top drawer.

"It's a trick bottom on the second drawer," Lord Westmoor explained. "There's a button for it underneath the inkwell."

Cole removed the dusty inkwell and found the button that Westmoor had been talking about. His nerves had been numbed after spending inordinate amounts of time listening to the ghost's instructions. He had not seen hide nor hair of any of the others, but he had the ghost's word that none of them would be harmed. Of course, he had not been able to guarantee that the other ghosts were around—his older sons Charles and Jonathan, his daughter Veronica and his wife.

The fake bottom of the drawer popped up when he pushed the button. He lifted it out and then scooped out a handful of yellowed papers, covered in dust.

"That is my will and the will of Thomas," the ghost said. "I left my entire estate and assets to Thomas. In Thomas' will, if he had no heir, then his inheritance goes to the next living relative that is closely related to him."

"His niece?"

"Yes. She would be old now, but very much alive." He paused. "I trust you will have no trouble finding her?"

He shook his head. Westmoor had named the niece earlier and Cole had not heard of her. Then again, he didn't live in Angel Grove. He just wanted to get out of this house and never see it again after this night. If he imagined correctly, then the others would want to get out of here too.

"Good. I want this settled. I want all our spirits to be at rest."

"You guys have been hanging around upwards of seventy years over an inheritance dispute?"

Lord Westmoor chuckled. "Hard to believe. I doubt that the memories will leave this house—it is full of memory. But hopefully the active spirits will leave." He paused. "There is a reason that Charles and Jonathan ran off the new owners. They believed that they would just throw away the desk with the papers."

"Why me?"

The ghost shrugged. "You lads seemed dedicated to helping people. I sensed that about you the moment you set foot in this house."

"So why did you lock us in here?"

Lord Westmoor looked amused. "Lock you in here? Why the devil would I want to lock you in here? Even Charles and Jonathan, who would want you gone, would not have locked the door. How else were you supposed to leave? Most everything else is boarded up."

Cole was stunned. If the ghosts didn't lock them in, then who did? Then it dawned on him—Eric had been right. That publicist locked them in here. He wondered how many of the strange things that had happened could be attributed to the publicist and how many things the ghost actually did. Then it occurred to him that if they had just stayed in the parlor all night, they probably wouldn't have run into any of the ghosts in the first place. A wry smile cracked his face when he realized that this was all Eric's fault. Not that Eric would listen to that or ever admit to it. He shook his head.

"We'll get this to your lawyer at sunrise," Cole assured him.

"Very good." Lord Westmoor looked up. "You now need to round up all your friends and go back to the parlor where you were. You'll stay safe there." He paused. "I assume that your shady publicist friend will open the door sometime before dawn."

"Thank you," Cole said softly.

"Try to get some sleep. Come, I'll take you back to the parlor."

* * *

Tommy and Wes almost fell down the wide staircase running away from the crazed little girl and Andros and Jason had to brace themselves from falling on top of them. Andros turned around and looked up the staircase. The ghost of the little girl was gone and the staircase was as it had been when they had first descended it.

"What time is it?" Tommy asked after he caught his breath.

Wes looked at his watch by the flashlight. "Almost midnight."

"We need to get back," Jason said. "The others might be looking for us."

"Doesn't look like they've had any luck with the lights," Tommy commented.

Andros noticed that they were studiously avoiding the fact that they had just seen two ghosts and were no closer to finding Eric, Conner and Cole. It was almost too much for their nervous systems. They were used to things being very fixed—nothing out of the ordinary. They slowly walked back to the parlor. Andros noticed a lot of shifting flashlight beams, as if making sure that nothing could pop out of the walls at them.

The parlor was as they had left it—none of their things had been disturbed. But it was absent of the people that should have been there.

"So where are they?" Jason asked.

No one needed to be told who he was talking about this time—TJ, Carter and Leo. They had been in the front hall trying the master switch Jason had flipped earlier. Andros supposed that they had gone down to the basement where most of the fuse boxes would be.

"I don't know," Tommy replied, sinking onto the floor next to the cooler and a pile of sleeping bags and pillows.

"Should we give them some time or go look for them?" Andros questioned.

Wes gave him an incredulous look. "Did you happen to take note of how much luck we had looking for Eric and Conner and Cole?" He paused, his voice rising hysterically. "What makes you think we can find the others?"

"Wes, calm down," Tommy said sharply. "They just went in the basement. What could be down in the basement?"

"More ghosts of people they buried down there!"

Andros hated to agree with a near-hysterical person, but Wes had a point. He doubted that there were only the two ghosts from what they had said. It was probably the entire family here like TJ had been telling them earlier.

"Look," Tommy said in a voice that was probably deceptively calm. "Jason and I can go down there and look for them." He paused, looking at Andros. "You two stay here." Andros knew what that look meant—make sure Wes doesn't go completely hysterical. He knew that he had been given that task for the simple fact that he was a father.

Jason and Tommy got up and left the parlor. Wes was huddled next to someone's duffel bag, shaking like mad. Andros didn't say anything. He just picked up an extra flashlight someone had brought that turned into a lantern and set it on the cooler, which happened to be in the center of the room. It provided a pale light that was slightly reassuring, since it lit up enough of the room. All the furniture was pressed against the walls, so it worked moderately well.

The silence stretched on until Andros heard voices in the hallway and Jason and Tommy reappeared with TJ, Leo and Carter. Leo was clutching his arm at an odd angle and he was pale and sweating more than the rest of them.

"His arm is broken," Carter said softly.

"The front door's locked," TJ said. "Everything else is boarded up. No cell phone reception."

"We can't get out until morning," Tommy added.

"Great!" Jason snapped. "We've got someone who needs medical attention and we're locked into a place with no first aide kit. I thought this was supposed to be fun!"

"You weren't the only one," TJ muttered.

Andros didn't say anything as they fashioned a sling out of someone's flannel shirt and Tommy put ice from the cooler on the arm. Leo hadn't uttered a sound, but he looked like he was in pain and was scared. Wes' eyes had widened when he saw that Leo was hurt, but he didn't move either.

"Hey guys!"

They all looked up to see Cole coming into the parlor with a handful of old yellowed papers. Seven jaws dropped at once.

"Cole?" Tommy asked. "Where're Eric and Conner?"

Cole frowned. "I thought they were with you. Lord Westmoor said that they would be with you guys."

"Who is Lord Westmoor?" Jason asked, as if he was fearing the answer.

"The father of the family TJ was telling us about." Cole looked around at all the bewildered faces. "I guess Eric and Conner are on their way here. Lord Westmoor just said that we should all stay here and try to get some sleep. We'll be safe here."

"Sleep?" Leo snorted. "You've got to be kidding."

* * *

The house was silent and still as Eric and Conner followed Thomas down a back staircase. Thomas explained that that was the servant's staircase and used by the family to get places faster in the house. Both of them had grown accustomed to their talkative ghost guide throughout the house. He had left them in an upstairs bedroom for a moment while he went to talk to the other ghosts, but returned and was now leading them back to the parlor.

"I know it all seems strange," Thomas was saying as they entered the large living room that could function as a ball room. "But Father knows what's best. He said that you should try to get some sleep once back in the parlor. Nothing will hurt you. He thinks that the man that brought you here was the one who locked you in. He'll probably open the door just before dawn." He paused as they entered the front hall. "And here we are. Good night!"

With that, the ghost vanished. Eric and Conner exchanged glances and then entered the parlor. Eric had expected to see everyone there, but had not expected to see everyone with the obvious exception of Leo in their sleeping bags and fast asleep.

"What the hell?" Eric muttered.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Leo replied.

Eric looked at the makeshift sling Leo's arm was in. "What happened to you?"

Leo shook his head. "Long story." He nodded towards their sleeping bags. "You guys might want to get some sleep. I figure we're stuck here for another five or six hours."

Eric didn't even bother to ask questions. He and Conner found their sleeping bags and managed to find places to sleep where they wouldn't be crammed in with everyone else. This had been one weird night and it wasn't over yet. Hopefully they would make it until sunrise. At least, he would get to see Taylor then…

Until sunrise… 

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

**Author's Note:** Wow! Thanks for all the awesome reviews-- I'm flattered that this story is succeeding on some level. I think I scared myself a couple times when I was writing it. :) I'm also extremely flattered that one of the C2 communities put 'Roaring On the Wind' in their archives. I'd like to know how I missed that. (lol) But thanks again guys! I'll see you at the next update! --EK 


	5. All Saint's Day

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. However, if Power Rangers did those spiffy novels like _Star Trek_ and _Star Wars_, I'd be set for life. No infringement is intended.

**DEAD MEN DO TELL TALES**

By Etcetera Kit

**Chapter Five: All Saint's Day**

The sun was just coming over the horizon as Ashley pulled the car up the drive of the haunted house. Jen Scotts looked out the window anxiously—this was going to be too good to miss. Either those guys had had the time of their lives or had been bored out of their minds. It made her wonder what TJ had originally been thinking when he asked all of them to put in the application. She hated feeling like she had missed things. Her memory went right up until blacking out after the Tyranno-drones beat Carter to two weeks ago. Almost a year of her life was missing and she felt some strange compulsion to make up for it.

That had been part of the reason she had wanted to come with Wes for the weekend. Not that she wouldn't have been comfortable and well-taken care of in his absence—Mr. Collins would see to that. She wanted to start living again. And going to Angel Grove for the weekend with the gang she remembered from a year ago seemed like a good idea.

Of course, on the flip side, she felt relatively helpless since she was still really weak and couldn't walk or stand for long periods of time. She hated feeling like an imposition on Ashley, since she and Wes had been staying with Andros and Ashley (along with Carter and his bunch.) But Ashley didn't seem to mind overmuch. Jen realized that, for all the people she was surrounded by, she knew very little about most of them. She knew Carter and Dana fairly well along with Cole and Alyssa and, naturally, Eric and to a lesser extent, Taylor. But the others all seemed like virtual strangers, even if she did still possess her purple Dino-Gem.

"And here we are," Ashley announced as she pulled her car next to the guys' cars. It was probably said for the sake of Brian and Kaye who were in the backseat with Cory and Heather. It would be just her luck to be in the car with all the kids. Dana was following them with Kendrix (and Merry), Taylor and Alyssa.

Ashley parked the car and started to unload the kids. Jen got out of the car and slowly made her way around towards the house, using the car as a support.

"Jen!" she heard Kendrix exclaim. "Let us help you!"

Kendrix came hurrying over to her, carrying a couple of lawn chairs. (Alyssa was holding baby Merry and looked to be in seventh heaven.) In the time that she had spent last evening with this bunch of women, Kendrix came across as incredibly sweet and caring. And probably got taken advantage of because of it.

"Don't worry about me," she told Kendrix as she set up the lawn chairs.

"It's not a big deal," Kendrix assured her. "Everyone needs help sometimes." Her blue eyes alighted on Alyssa holding her daughter.

"Think they're alive?" Taylor muttered, as Brian, Heather and Cory started a nonsense game of tag on the lawn.

"Cole probably doesn't think he's alive," Alyssa replied with a laugh.

"I'm sure they're alive," Ashley yawned. "It's just a matter of what kind of state they'll be in." She paused. "Especially if they scared themselves."

Dana snorted. "Unlikely knowing them."

Jen also found it amazing that something as seemingly ridiculous as a 'red ranger distress signal' could bring all of the members and their families so close. Everyone here (over the age of about sixteen) had been a ranger and most of them still had their powers. In Jen's case, she actually still had two power sources.

"Where are they?" Kendrix asked.

"Let's go find out," Taylor replied. Jen watched as Taylor and Kendrix walked up to the front door of the house and tried the doorknob. Apparently, it was stuck, but they heard the guys moving around.

"Why would the door be locked?" Ashley said.

Jen frowned as Taylor picked up a two by four that had been lying on the front porch and used it to take off the doorknob completely. Her and Kendrix stepped back as someone inside the house kicked the door completely open—it splintered where the doorknob had been. The door swung open. Jen wasn't surprised when the door revealed Eric standing there and indicating that he had been the one to kick the door open. He gave Taylor a quick peck on the cheek before calling something back into the house.

She felt a fractional hitch in her breathing as Carter and Andros came out of the house with Leo supported between them. Dana hurried forward and sat Leo down in one of the lawn chairs. She took off the makeshift sling on his arm.

"What happened?" she asked, probing his arm gently.

Leo winced and gritted his teeth. "Fell down the basement stairs."

Dana swung around to face Carter and Andros. "Why didn't anyone call 911? This arm should have been set a long time ago!"

"No cell phone reception out here!" Carter snapped, obviously tired and not happy. "And then we were locked in the house."

"You could have found a way out!" Dana turned back to Leo. Jen was almost amazed that she didn't start yelling at Leo too, because Leo could have insisted they find a way out and, if he had started complaining, they probably would have.

"Why isn't she yelling at Leo?" she asked Kendrix in an undertone.

Kendrix gave a small laugh and glanced at Leo. "It's not going to do any good now. Besides, it's not his way to complain about being in pain. If he was dying and thought that he needed to do something, he'd get up and do it."

She moved back to Leo and gently stroked his hair as he stifled a yelp from Dana's examination of his arm.

"So where's that damn publicist with our money?" Eric muttered, dragging a couple duffel bags to the cars. "Probably bailed out on us," he answered himself.

Wes appeared on the porch, holding an armful of sleeping bags and, for some strange reason, a cow flashlight. He dumped the sleeping bags in Tommy's Jeep and handed the flashlight to Brian (who promptly made it 'moo') before coming over to her. He planted a kiss on her forehead as he knelt in front of her.

"So what happened?" she asked playfully.

He shuddered visibly. "Never again will I say I don't believe in ghosts."

"You guys saw ghosts?"

"More than I would care to remember."

"Yeah, he was the one close to having a nervous breakdown," Eric called from where he had been loading duffel bags in TJ's car.

Wes glared at him. "Why is there dust in your hair?" Taylor was asking Eric as she ran her fingers through his black hair, causing noticeable clouds of dust to form.

"I was sleeping on the floor of an abandoned house," he retorted. "You tell me."

"Yeah and we ended up in the attic," Conner added, lugging the cooler out of the house.

Taylor crossed her arms over her chest. "The attic?"

"Well that was after we almost got attack by an insane woman and a convict who obviously thought that we knew something they didn't," Eric replied nonchalantly. "Oh yeah and then I got to see a ghost rendition of a guillotine execution."

"And then that ghost named Thomas took us back down to the parlor," Conner continued, hefting the cooler into Tommy's Jeep.

"And then we found everyone asleep expect Leo who couldn't sleep because his arm hurt too much and then we thought that that publicist was going to come and open the door at sunrise, which he didn't and-" Eric took a deep breath like he was going to continue rattling on and on until someone stopped him.

"I get the picture!" Taylor replied loudly, cutting off anything that was to come.

Jen laughed and turned back to Wes. "So did any ghosts attack you?"

"This crazy little girl tried to attack us because she thought that we were going to take her brothers to prison or something ridiculous like that."

"Hey! The publicist!" Eric yelled.

A black car was pulling up to all of them. A little man with a moustache got out, looking extremely nervous. He looked around at the whole group.

"So? You made it until morning?" He gave a nervous laugh.

"Damn straight," Eric replied. "Where's the money?"

"Ah yes… that…" the man cleared his throat. "Well, no one thought you'd actually stay the whole night, so…"

"What?" Conner yelled, causing the man to jump.

Eric growled and picked the man up by his lapels. He squeaked and looked scared to have an extraordinarily angry Eric on his hands. "Want to repeat that?" Eric asked in a dangerously low tone.

"You-you can't do anything! I'll sue!"

"Oh hell no," Eric said, dropping the man. "I'll have you for false advertising." He pointed at Leo, who was clutching his arm and was pale. "See that? We had to spend the entire night in that house with someone who has a broken arm because you locked us in! If I don't see some money soon, you're going to wish you were never born!"

The man squeaked and pulled an envelope out of his coat. He dropped it on the ground before scurrying off to his car and driving away. Eric bent down and picked up the envelope, looking at its contents. Conner leaned over his shoulder.

"Ten checks," Eric replied. "One hundred thousand dollars each."

"Yes! Tuition money!" Conner crowed.

"I thought you had a scholarship," Tommy asked him.

Conner shrugged. "Just in case."

Jen laughed at the antics. Wes was still on the ground before her, only now he was using her lap as a pillow. She gently stroked his hair, relieved to find that he wasn't covered in dust like Eric and Conner and didn't have broken bones like Leo.

There was a plaintive moo from the cow flashlight.

"Let's get out of here," Ashley said. Everyone piled back into the cars and started the drive back into the heart of Angel Grove.

* * *

So here they were, safe and sound squeezed into TJ's kitchen after a night of horrors that had been enough to equal a good scary movie. Carter took the beer that had been offered to him and glanced around at the faces around the table. Everyone had either gone back to their host's house or their hotel, showered and had some proper sleep. (None of them considered sleeping on a hardwood floor to be proper sleep.) And they were back, debriefing for all intents and purposes before planes started leaving and people had to drive back home. 

They had just finished comparing stories about what had happened to them when they had all split up. The general consensus was that the prison convict ghost had been Charles, the ghost in the suit had been Jonathan, the little girl Veronica and the young man with no apparent wounds or other means of identification had been Thomas. The older man had been Lord Westmoor himself (even though Cole had been the only one to see him) and the insane woman with the gashed throat had been Lord Westmoor's wife.

Apparently, when Eric, Conner and Cole had gone upstairs, they had run into two ghosts in an intimate situation in the master bedroom. That disappeared before the lights went out. Conner and Eric then saw the ghosts circling the ballroom ceiling before running into Lady Westmoor and Charles. They then fled to the attic where Eric (who didn't allow Conner to see it) saw the guillotine execution. Thomas then found the pair of them and brought them back to the parlor with the others. The pair of them also made a clear distinction between what they called seeing 'memories' (scenes that had happened in places around the house) and actual ghosts. The ghosts in the master bedroom and the guillotine had been memories. Everything else they had seen had been ghosts.

When the lights went out, Cole got dragged into the master bedroom by Lord Westmoor and the ghost wanted him to help settle the inheritance problem that had kept all the spirits active. Cole, after getting over the initial shock, had then spent the rest of his time away from the others following around Lord Westmoor and collecting the various documents that were needed for the lawyers.

After those left in the parlor split up, Jason, Tommy, Wes and Andros went upstairs after the former trio (who by this time were all either in the attic or locked in the master bedroom). They found a suspicious blood stain on the carpet and ran into Jonathan in one of the bedrooms on the second floor. (After, Jonathan tried to bludgeon Tommy with a chair.) Once Jonathan disappeared, Veronica appeared and pulled some scary face demon junk that prompted them to get back into the parlor as quickly as possible.

As for himself, Leo and TJ, he already knew the story. They headed in the kitchen, found that skeleton (which the police were investigating) and then found the basement stairs. Leo fell down the stairs and got dragged behind the crates by Charles. Carter and TJ found Leo behind the crates and then Jonathan and Charles argued about killing them. Thomas intervened and they managed to get back to the kitchen, just in time to run into Tommy and Jason who were coming to look for them.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

"So we came out relatively unscathed," TJ commented, sipping his beer.

"You call this relatively unscathed!" Leo said sarcastically, indicating his arm which was now in a cast and a sling. He, along with Conner, was drinking soda instead of beer. Kendrix didn't want him mixing his painkillers with alcohol.

"He's doped up on painkillers. Don't listen to him," Andros muttered.

"Hey!" Conner replied. "Some people have said some very profound things while under the influence."

"Like what?" Eric asked.

"Like that guy that was licking those frogs in South America because something in their skin had hallucinogenic effects."

"That is dumb for two reasons," Carter spoke up. "One, the guy had to be dumb enough to actually do it. Second, he had to tell someone about it."

"That still doesn't answer the question of who said something profound while they were high," Wes said.

"John Lennon came up with some pretty good stuff while he was high," Jason answered the question. "I mean they do say that the whole of _Sgt. Pepper's_ is about drugs."

"That's true," Eric replied.

"So back to the haunted house," TJ said loudly.

"I'm just glad I got out of school," Conner muttered.

Tommy gave him a withering look. "You're just glad that you missed Dr. Cranston's Pre-Cal test today."

"Yeah, I have a study extension."

"Did you talk to the law firm?" Wes asked Cole.

Cole nodded. "I called, but they weren't in today. I left the papers in their mail slot in an envelope with a note." Carter added that the skeleton in the pantry and the bodies in the basement and the prison graveyard were being investigated by the proper authorities.

"Sounds good," Tommy said.

"Think we'll see anymore of the ghosts?" Andros asked.

"Probably not," Cole replied. "I mean they are all tied to the house. I can't imagine that they'd leave their home just to give us grief."

Everyone agreed to that and the conversation drifted back towards lighter topics. Carter had to admit that, if nothing else, these group reunions always turned out interesting.

* * *

Eric looked out the window on the plane ride back to Silver Hills. Maybe the weekend had not been as restful as he had thought it was going to be, but it had gotten him and Taylor away from Taylor's parents for a little bit. For that small blessing, he was thankful. The sky was blue and the clouds were fluffy and white. It seemed like such a contrast from the horrific things he had seen last night. Well, he supposed that nothing he had seen last night was all that horrific compared to what he had already seen, it was just the context that made it different. 

"What'cha thinking about?"

He turned from the window to Taylor. She was studying him intensely, her blue eyes burning into his skin.

"Cole and Alyssa are getting married in six weeks," he invented.

"And?"

"I have to buy a new tie."

Taylor laughed and snuggled up against him. He sighed, contentedly. When he and Taylor first met, the last thing he had ever thought they would do was get married. He recalled that picnic after the mutorgs had been defeated. He had stolen her book and she ended up chasing him to a remote spot in the Animarium. One thing led to another… and for the next two years they had ended up as off and on bedmates. The year after the red ranger mission involving Mesogog had been the reckoning for their relationship. The two years before had been odd—both of them had other significant others and there was no commitment to each other. That year saw them through the ups and downs of a relationship, before he proposed to her.

"That's not what you were thinking about."

He smiled, in spite of himself. "No, it's not."

"You were thinking about last night."

"Dammit, woman, how do you figure these things out?"

"I'm psychic," she retorted sarcastically.

He sighed, not feeling like picking a fight over something stupid. "Yeah. I've seen things more horrific than that. It was just the context… and if anyone else had been with me other than Conner…"

"You're worried about him?"

"He's just so young. He doesn't need to see an insane woman dying from a gash across her throat, even if it was a ghost."

"Eric, he's probably seen movies gorier than what you two saw."

"Movies are not the same thing as real life, even if it was a ghost."

"Maybe you should call him and see if he's okay."

Eric gave her a bored look. "We are talking about Conner here. Even if he was scarred for life, do you really think he'd admit to it?"

Taylor smiled. "You two have a lot in common then."

He raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"You don't ever want to admit you're hurt or that you need help or that you'd like someone to take care of you for a change."

"I don't need to be taken care of."

Taylor shook her head. "Everyone needs to be taken care of."

"Well, you're guilty of the same thing."

"We're not talking about me, we're talking about you," Taylor replied airily.

Eric didn't reply, he just wrapped an arm around her and let his gaze drift back to the window. He didn't know why he loved Taylor at all. She drove him crazy and the two of them could fight over the dumbest things, but there was something about her that made him feel whole. His entire life he felt like he had been running. First it was from the fact that he had no real family and then that prep school where he never fit in. Then it was the Marines and then the Silver Guardians… he had never dreamed that when he pulled Taylor over and gave her that ticket close to three years ago that she would eventually become his wife. Fate had a way of putting him right back in the company of people he didn't like (Wes… Taylor…) and turning that hate into friendship and love.

"Did I tell you my mom called last night?" Taylor asked.

"No." He paused. "Did she give you another lecture on my shortcomings?"

"Surprisingly no. She did tell me my Aunt Bella called."

"That name sounds ominous."

Taylor laughed. "She's supposedly the psychic one in the family. She said that she foresees we will have lots of babies."

"Lovely."

He was starting to think that his original idea of trying to drown himself in the shower might not be so bad. 

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

**Author's Note:** I hope everyone has enjoyed this fic! I got the idea for this at one point in time and, ironically enough, the thread with Conner and Eric was the only completed one for a long time. Go figure. I do have more stories planned for the red ranger bunch. I'll just say that if it involves a member of the red ranger distress signal to a large degree, it happens in the same world as 'Roaring On the Wind.' If it doesn't, then it's a stand alone piece. So, with that, happy writing and I shall see all of you around and about! --EK 


	6. Sunrise

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. However, if Power Rangers did those spiffy novels like _Star Trek_ and _Star Wars_, I'd be set for life. No infringement is intended.

**Author's Note:** This is the real end-- I swear! Thanks to cmar for pointing out a few things that I overlooked! With that, enjoy! --EK

* * *

**DEAD MEN DO TELL TALES**

By Etcetera Kit

**Epilogue: Sunrise**

He stood on the front lawn in front of the house, staring up at the slightly awesome presence that old Victorian houses seemed to have. It had been over six months since their stay in the House on Haunted Hill. He was graduating from high school in a week and moving on to UCLA, away from his twin brother, his fellow rangers and from the safety net that he had grown to rely on in the last two years. He wasn't entirely sure why he was back at the house. Something had drawn him there. Maybe it was to make sure that the ghosts had gone to rest.

Conner took in a deep breath, fingering the key he had gone through some hoops to get. It was now or never. He walked up the front walk and stepped onto the porch. Someone had fixed the door from where they had kicked it open and destroyed the knob with a two by four. He inserted the key in the lock and turned, the door swinging silently open. Someone had also done some badly needed repairs and renovations since their stay.

The front entry hall was clean and sparkling, the ominous cobwebs that had hung from the ceiling gone. The chandelier caught the mid-morning daylight and reflected shards of rainbow light onto the walls and floor. Despite the different look, the house had the same feel and held memories… the ghosts' memories and their memories. He and Doctor O had many discussions while the search for the bodies was going on and the analysis of the skeleton and while the law firm was looking for the heir and settling the wills. He, Doctor O, Andros and TJ had been the first ones informed on all that progress since they were the closest.

_"The police identified the skeleton in the pantry."_

_ "Oh yeah?"_

_ "Yeah. It turns out Carter's theory was right. It was the body of a person who has been missing for twenty years. The murders broke into the house and left the body there."_

_ "Did they find the murderers?"_

_ "No. That trail is cold."_

_ "Did it have anything to do with the house or the Westmoors?"_

_ "There's no evidence for that. That law firm is now working with the police."_

_ "So that skeleton will be laid to rest?"_

_ "The family is making the arrangements to have the remains shipped to their home."_

He looked down the front hall. The doors leading to the kitchen and the formal dining room were open, unlike during their night in the house. The door to the parlor was open. He stepped into the open doorway, looking at the restored furniture and the cleaned room. Closing his eyes, he could picture it as it had been then, with the sheets on the furniture and the dust everywhere, their things scattered about, the cow flashlight mooing. He could see Leo, sitting up all night because of his broken arm and Wes shivering from near-hysteria. Straining, he thought he could hear Eric muttering about sleazy publicists and trip wires.

Leaving the parlor, he walked down the hall to the large living room that could function as a ball room. The large sweeping staircase was still intact and looked impressive now that it was devoid of the rotting carpet and loose boards. He gently ran his hand over the banister, now fresh with polish and not dust.

_"The law firm found the heir."_

_ "Who was she?"_

_ "You're not going to believe this."_

_ "Who?"_

_ "Ashley's grandmother."_

_ "You're kidding!"_

_ "No. Apparently the grandmother had forged much of her past, joined the army and met Ashley's grandfather. No one asked any questions."_

_ "Amazing. So now Andros and Ashley have a share in the inheritance?"_

_ "Definitely. Apparently the woman is already offering to pay off her children and grandchildren's debts."_

Conner smiled, remembering when Ashley's grandmother paid off the mortgage on their house, their cars and most of their outstanding bills. It had been a blessing for the couple, especially since they had two little ones. Andros would never talk about his financial situation and no one had really been aware that he and Ashley were drowning that badly in debt. Neither of them showed the strain. He shook his head. Between the inheritance and the money from spending the night in the house, the Hammonds were well-off now. The publicity money certainly helped the rest of them along.

He shook his head, gazing up the stairs to the hallway where he, Eric and Cole had seen the first ghosts of the evening. It was amazing how many weddings and funerals he had been to during the past school year… and an odd baby shower. First there had been Cole and Alyssa's wedding, then the funeral for Charles and Thomas followed by a baby shower for Dr. Cranston and Kim's newborn, Caroline… Then came Eric and Taylor's wedding… And none of this included Dr. Cranston and Kim's wedding that had happened only two weeks before their fateful stay in the haunted house.

_"The police have found a skeleton buried in the basement."_

_ "From what we were told, it should be Thomas."_

_ "Precisely. Apparently, when cleaning out the house, the police found a lock of hair that was Thomas'. The DNA matched up."_

_ "Good."_

_ "He'll be buried in their family plot with the others."_

Memories… Most of the members of the ghost family were happily buried in their family plot in a graveyard near the house. A project had gone on to clean up that graveyard in addition to the house. The house was now a historical landmark. Part of the reason he had been able to cajole them into giving him the key was because he was part of the group that catalyzed the preservation of the house. It had been added to a 'ghost tour' that was set up in Angel Grove and featured various haunted sites.

He had had to sign more affidavits then he cared to remember. He had to give the police a detailed account of what happened in that night, along with various forms for the supernatural societies and historical societies. Never in his wildest dreams would he have pictured spending the night in a haunted house would have caused him so much paperwork. On top of his paperwork for UCLA… it had been a crazy few months.

_"The police have ripped apart that old prison graveyard."_

_ "I'd imagine. The records were so terrible."_

_ "Apparently the records helped. They managed to locate a skeleton that they believe to be Charles. A lock of his hair helped."_

_ "Where are all these locks of hair coming from?"_

_ "The mother was into scrap-booking and documenting her family. Locks of hair were among the insane amount of mementos they found in the house."_

_ "I guess that works out well for us."_

_ "It certainly does. Mrs. Hammond called to let me know a memorial service is being held for Charles and Thomas. We're invited, along with all the others."_

_ "Are the others coming?"_

_ "Not for this. But they're all going to send flowers and whatnot."_

_ "I guess that publicity money helped in the long run."_

_ "No kidding…"_

They had done what they promised they would do. The inheritance was now in the hands of its rightful owner and the bodies were laid to rest properly. The only thing left was to find out if the ghosts really were gone.

Conner ran one hand along the banister, before heading down a long hallway on the first floor that led to Lord Westmoor's old office. He opened the door. Sunlight poured through the open windows and the office looked like someone would walk through the door at any moment, holding a sheaf of legal papers. He smiled. So many people had been affected by what was originally a goofy idea for some Halloween fun.

"Mr. McKnight."

He looked up at the faint ghost of Lord Thomas Westmoor standing behind the desk. He was and was not surprised to see him there. "I thought you passed on," he said softly, a wry smile coming over his face.

"I shall." The ghost shrugged. "The others have. This place is no long violently haunted by the half-insane." He paused. "There's nothing here for you, Conner."

He suddenly realized that the ghost should not know his name. He said as much.

"I learned all your names," he replied simply. "But what you are looking for is not in this house or in anything related to this house."

"I just wanted to see if we helped you."

"You did and, for that, we are all grateful." He smiled. "You are young. Life, to you, is one great adventure. But you must find what really matters, you must find who you really are." Lord Westmoor raised a hand in a goodbye salute. "I must go. The others call to me." He faded from sight, leaving the room quiet and filled with sunlight once more.

He shivered despite the fact that it wasn't cold.

They had succeeded. That phrase rang through his head, the enormous implications slowly dawning on him. But Lord Westmoor was right. What he needed to find was not in this house or in anything related to this house. In many ways, he still did not know who he was. He thought of the others, a smile coming to his face. Not his fellow rangers, but his fellow red rangers. Jason… Doctor O… TJ… Andros… Leo… Carter… Wes… Eric… Cole… They seemed to be the people he connected with and who he felt like understood him. They all knew what it was, they shared the red ranger legacy.

He took a deep breath and walked out of the house into the sunlight, ready to face his future…

The End


End file.
